


We're So Far Away

by spookywoods



Series: The Everglow [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookywoods/pseuds/spookywoods
Summary: It was the summer of '77 and the Marauders' lives were about to change. Before their final year at Hogwarts begins, Sirius completes his motorcycle; James grapples with the failing health of his parents; Peter unearths ancient Charmwork in his grandfather's library; and Remus, well, he discovers disco.





	We're So Far Away

**Author's Note:**

> This is work in progress following the Marauders in their seventh year at Hogwarts. Each part will follow/be based on a song from the album The Everglow by Mae. Every part will have a chapter dedicated to each marauder. 
> 
> "We're So Far Away" is the first song on The Everglow, and a sample of its lyrics will be in italics at the beginning of each chapter. I encourage you to listen to it before and after though!

-/-

 

_Wondering, the change you’d bring,_  
_means nothing else would be the same._  
_Did you know, what you were doing, did you know?_  
_Did you know how you would move me? Well,_  
_I don’t really think so._  
_But the night came down and swept us away._

 

_-/-_

 

Sirius shivers when the cool July air kisses his bare arms. The breeze filters into the back shed as James slams open the door and rushes inside clutching a thick stack of parchments. Sirius eyes it and wipes the sweat from his brow. He realises he’s probably smeared grease all over his face, but he’s reached the point where he doesn’t much care.

“It’s so bright in here,” James breathes, chest rising and falling erratically like he’s run straight from the house without pause. Sirius absently wonders what time it is. He wonders if he’s missed supper. “How’s the bike coming along?”

“It’s--” He squints at James and tries to think of a way to put _completely hopeless_ in a different way. “--coming along.”

James stares at the greasy engine parts strewn about the ground between them. “Sirius, half the engine is on the ground. You were at this stage last week. I thought it’d be running by now.” Sirius doesn’t miss the way James glances at the sidecar they found in a junkyard, which he still hadn’t attached.

He doesn’t mean to sound as defensive as he does when he answers, “It’s a complicated thing this is, alright? Mixing muggle parts with magic. The Charms are a lot harder than I thought.” He points to a broken part on the ground at his feet. “And I blasted this thing to pieces trying to amplify the thestral power.”

“Is that what you’ve settled on calling it, then?” James laughs.

Sirius smiles and shakes his head. They go back and forth for a few minutes as he explains his process of taking it apart and putting it back together, and all the magical additions he’s making to each component. “That’s bloody genius,” James says when Sirius shows him the flying Charms he’s added. “You need to make a manual or something.”

When Sirius points out _once again_ the seventeen different statutes he’s breaking with the modifications alone, not to mention the laws they’d break if they ever took it out, James gulps. His hands grip the parchments he’d been holding and Sirius eyes them, curiosity finally overcoming him. “What’s this business here?” He points to the parchments then turns around to start cleaning up the mess he’s made.

“This?” James shrugs. “It’s just the packet explaining the year ahead and what my duties will be.”

“Your duties?” Sirius raises a brow and shoots a sly look at his best friend.

James bites his lip, grinning. “My duties as Head Boy.”

Sirius chokes. “What?”

James just smiles wider. Sirius jumps up and snatches the letter, scanning it. Sure enough, Hogwarts had lost their collective mind. “Hey!” James protests. “Get your greasy hands off that!” Before James rips it out of Sirius’ grasp, he manages to catch the name of the Head Girl.

“LILY EVANS?” Sirius rasps and then bursts out laughing. “Oh Merlin.”

James crosses his arms and frowns. “What’s so funny about me and Evans being Head Boy and Head Girl?”

Sirius shakes his head and ignores the question. “You’re certain this is an official letter? And not some prank?”

“It has Dumbledore’s signature, the official seal,” James rolls his eyes, “And clear instructions that I can get the special badge embroidered on my robes.”

“Special badge?” Sirius beams, mind aflutter with all the different ways the Marauders can use James’ position to their advantage. He’s about to start listing off things when James fixes him with a pointed stare; his hazel eyes are sharp, his lips pressed into a firm line, and Sirius knows what determination looks like on James. He knows it means something big is coming and he’s sure he won’t like it. He gulps and turns around.

“Are we going to talk about your thing, mate?”

Sirius grabs a greasy wrench and starts wiping it down. “My thing?”

James leans against the workbench by the wall and crosses his arms. “Yes, your _thing._ ”

“I don’t have a--” Sirius clutches the towel and grips the wrench. He can’t seem to focus on cleaning the part in front of him. “I mean, James, really, if you wanted my--”

“You kissed Remus.”

“--my prick…” He freezes. He should’ve been expecting it, but somehow James still caught him by surprise. His brow twitches, and he figures the easiest way out is through. “Oh, _that_ thing.” He sighs. “Yes, I did.”

James narrows his eyes. “You haven’t said a word about it all summer. And don’t think for a second I don’t know you’ve been thinking about it.”

Sirius knows he hadn’t been subtle, keeping each and every one of Remus’ letters and reading through them again and again with the spark of hope that he’d missed something the first dozen times. “Well.” Sirius let his shoulders fall. “Moony hasn’t said a word about it all summer, either.”

His mind wanders back to the night they all met up at the Leaky Cauldron right after term ended. He thinks he can almost taste the firewhiskey on his tongue and smell the oak and stone and sweat and grime. It had been a bloody humid and rainy mess, but he’d stayed to see off Peter before he left for Bulgaria with his grandfather.

They toasted their triumphs and messed around for the better part of three hours until Peter pulled Sirius aside, smiling sheepishly. “We did it.”

“I know you’ve had a lot, mate,” Sirius replied, “but the motorbike isn’t up and running just yet. Those manuals you gave me are going to--” he burped and then continued, “--really, really, really help.”

“Really?” Remus leaned forward, blue eyes alight, scintillating. “Really, really?”

Sirius couldn’t bring himself to look away, but crinkled his eyes and smiled in response. There was something about the light across Moony’s face, the scatter of freckles, and Sirius thought it was the prettiest thing he’d seen in his life.

Peter sighed beside him. “I meant, me and Dinah.” Sirius and Remus both lost their composure at the same time.

“What?” Sirius turned back to Peter, swearing he looked almost apprehensive. But one of his best mates had just admitted to losing his virginity. They should’ve been celebrating. Peter was the first to do it, even though everyone thought it was Sirius, and even James, who had crossed that milestone already. Sirius held the sneaking suspicion that James, like himself, let people believe what they wanted to believe about certain late night rendezvous when the reality had been masterfully tame. Without shattering his own reputation, he slapped Peter on the back and grinned, teasing, “You gave gold to the old niffler, eh?”

Peter rolled his eyes but relaxed into the bench, teeth showing as a slight smile took over his face.

Remus cleared his throat. “Did you fly St George’s style?”

Sirius jerked his head up and met Remus’ daring gaze. He’d only wanted to tease Peter a bit, but Remus was smirking at him in his challenging, superior way, and they both knew Sirius couldn’t stop himself from rising to it.

“He’s sent the Elves on holiday,” he said, and Remus didn’t look impressed.

“He shot twixt wind and water.”

Sirius shook his head at the archaic yet eloquent phrase, and countered, “Made foam for her butterbeer.” He heard Peter exhale a quiet laugh, but kept his focus on Remus. His eyes pierced Sirius with a burning ferocity and he couldn’t tell if it was the stare, the firewhiskey, or the competition that was leaving him breathless.

Remus leant in over the table, all seriousness and shadows. “They shone light on the devil’s snare.”

“Took a turn amongst the cabbages,” Sirius smiled and edged forward on the bench, the pull of the shadows and their stare too strong to resist.

“They danced the Paphian jig.” Remus licked his lips and Sirius followed the action. He was suddenly aware of how close they’d got but he doesn’t dare move.

“Alright,” Peter interjected. “How about I get us some water?” He stood and left them alone in the booth with only inches of table between them.

Sirius barely registered Peter’s exit. He was too wrapped up in the flush of Remus’ cheek, the tilt of his lips, the weight of his stare. Suddenly he was suffocating on his own breath, and before he realised it, he was leaning forward and pressing his lips to Remus’ jaw, trailing his way to the salvation of his lips. When they finally met, it was like breathing fire, and it was the first time in his life Sirius felt consecrated by a kiss.

He pulled away suddenly, something like unworthiness constricting in his chest, and his eyes landed on James standing at the head of the table, staring at them with an open mouth. Sirius panicked and said, “That’s how you block the old Floo.” And then he winked at a flushed Remus and turned back to James to tell him about Peter’s confession.

By the time Peter made it back to the table, they’d managed to settle into a mindless discussion about the newest Quidditch brooms on display in Diagon Alley, and Sirius didn’t count the number of times he stopped himself from looking across the table at Remus. He didn’t think about the magnetic pull he’d just experienced, or the heat shared between them.

Staring at James in the shed more than a month later, Sirius supposes not thinking about the kiss at all has been part of his problem. It isn’t that he doesn’t think about it necessarily, it’s that every time his mind wanders back to that moment, he feels the rush of adrenaline shoot through him and the memory sparks something warm inside him. For a while, he writes it off as the heat of the moment and too much firewhiskey, but deep down Sirius knows those things don’t matter. Deep down he knows it meant something. But he doesn’t want to know what that is, if it means going down a path where things might change between him and Remus.

He says so to James. “Nothing’s changed.”

James just shakes his head. “The only thing that hasn’t changed is your ability to wrap yourself in thick denial.”

“I’ve just admitted it! I’m not denying anything!”

“Is it because he’s a bloke?” James asks.

“What?” Sirius blinks. It isn’t that at all.  “No--you--you know I went around with Gentry Lightfoot for a few weeks.”

James nods, “And Karsten Shacklebolt.”

His eyes bulge and surprise takes over him. “You know about that?” Sirius had only snogged Shacklebolt once under the Quidditch stands during a Gryffindor practice session. They’d actually gotten pretty far, and the memory of the Ravenclaw’s hand palming him through his robes has him blushing like an idiot. He turns away from Prongs and takes a breath.

“You’re not subtle, Sirius.” James steps forward so Sirius has to look at him. He squares his jaw. Sirius rolls his eyes at the gesture; it’s the precursor to what should promise to be a lengthy lecture. “Pads, you don’t think things through. This time you kissed someone who actually matters and you need to face that.”

Sirius latches on to James’ first point. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. It was just something that happened in the moment. The firewhiskey and all the talk of Peter and Dinah and squeezing the mandrake had me feeling restless.”

“Lots of people were there, why’d you kiss Moony?”

He can’t stop the laugh that escapes him. “You mean the four matrons in the booth nearby and the shady mouthbreathers at the bar?”

“Point,” James says.

They share a look and Sirius starts the think maybe James knows something he doesn’t, and the fact that it’s something to do with his own internal workings makes him shake his head. “Circe, I’m such a bloody mess.”

James puts a hand to his shoulder and squeezes. “It might make you uncomfortable but you need to think about it. And soon. We’re camping out in three days, as soon as Peter gets back. Are you going to be able to handle it?”

He’d completely forgotten about their plans to camp. The thought of seeing Moony again thrills and terrifies him, and Sirius doesn’t know what to make of that. He thinks maybe something changed between them, and then he realizes if something had indeed changed, it was likely only within him.

“Can I ask you something?” James almost whispers.

Sirius nods, somehow knowing he’s only going to regret it.

James looks away. “We talk about those things all the time. You and Remus compete for one-liners on the daily during term. And you’ve never had an issue with firewhiskey before around him. Do you know why you got restless this one time? ”

“I don’t know.” Sirius thinks about the moment back at the Leaky. He thinks about the rise Remus got out of him and the things that were flashing through his mind, the stare shared between him that lit him up from the inside. He goes back a moment before, to Peter’s admission that he’d finally had sex with the girl he claimed to love so much. A pang of something like jealousy hits him and he suddenly realises there’s a part of him that wants that. He can’t help but picture Remus’ face that night, shadowy and intrepid, and beaming with unassuming beauty. “Something shifted inside me.”

“I know the feeling,” James mutters. And Sirius latches onto that to chase away his own feelings. He starts questioning Prongs about Evans, about how things had changed between them and what it might mean for the year ahead. “I don’t know,” James admits. “I just started taking it day by day. I started taking it seriously.” He smiles and it grounds Sirius, settles whatever thoughts had been storming inside him. “You should try it sometime,” Prongs adds.

Sirius scoffs. “I take things seriously.”

James fixes him with another stern look. “You can’t stand on the knife’s edge like this. Not with Remus. Talk to him.”

Sirius gulps. They finish cleaning up the mess he’d made and then head back to the main house. He ends up sitting in the kitchen with a hastily made sandwich wondering if he should write Remus a letter. No, he ends up deciding, he won’t. It’ll be easier to face him and see how he reacts to the things Sirius is going to say. Bloody hell, he thinks, and takes a bite of his food. He’s got to figure out what that’s going to be.


End file.
